


Win Win Situation

by Gala_and_Elle, gala_apples



Series: Slantverse [20]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - High School, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Fixation, Outdoor Sex, negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-12
Updated: 2012-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-30 23:50:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gala_and_Elle/pseuds/Gala_and_Elle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite Matt's initial misgivings, Rose's advice to actually <i>talk</i> to Frank turns out pretty well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Win Win Situation

Matt is quickly developing a thing for Frank’s mouth. Watching him at his almost full table of friends eating his lunch is making him hard. The banana is the worst. It’s so cliche it’s pathetic, but it’s still true. There’s just something about the way Frank’s lips stretch. 

It takes Rose elbowing him in the ribs to get him to blink. “If you want to sit with him, just go sit with him. Jesus. It’s not like you’re abandoning us or whatever. We’re big girls and boys, we’d be okay.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not that. I just wouldn’t have pegged myself for an oral slant.” 

Miguel snorts. “That’s because you have the self awareness of a chimpanzee.”

Rose shakes her head. It’s not Miguel’s casual movement, like everything she does it’s theatrical. Rose does everything like she’s on stage in front of a thousand filled seats, and she needs to make sure the guy in row Z seat thirty sees her too. “Chimpanzees are smart, man. Mattie’s like a squirrel.” 

Hey. “Fuck off!” 

“No man,” Miguel starts. “It’s completely true. Didn’t figure yourself for an oral slant? Maybe you didn’t listen to yourself, but we had six months of ‘Laura’s mouth guys, when she puts on lipstick during class it’s like her hand’s on my balls’.”

“Okay but Laura did have a beautiful mouth.”

“That is so completely my point are you fucking retarded?” Rose says all in one breath.

“But at least Laura did put her hand on my balls. With me and Frank I don’t even know.” It’s most definitely the worst part of being Frank’s dom, worse than his crazy ass friends. Contrary to Rose’s inquiry, he’s pretty sure he’s never going to sit at a table with thirty crazy people. He’s better suited to small groups.

“He hasn’t touched your junk?”

“I haven’t touched his either. I just punch him until we both come. Which is great, don’t get me wrong. But people in his gym class have seen more Frank skin than I have.”

Rose sighs.”Talk to me, talk to Mrs Aguilera, talk to Mr Howard, we’ll all tell you the same thing. You need to discuss your slant with your partners.”

Matt picks at the lettuce sticking out the edge of his sandwich. 

“No, seriously, go talk now. Now or I’ll do it for you, and you cannot begin to understand how much of a spectacle I’ll make it.”

Miguel nods. “It’s why I had to release her.” He turns to her. “I’ll always love you, but Jesus, everything was a drama.”

“I’ll always love _you_ , but you have no fuckin’ flair. But see, Matt? We know this because we talked. Seriously Cortez, grow some balls.”

Because he knows Rose, he knows she will do it for him, and it will be a massive show. He puts his sandwich down onto the paper bag so it doesn’t touch the table -who knows how often Jimmy washes them- and stands. Frank looks suddenly eager when he notices him walking over. Matt feels a little like a tease, but caf brawls will not happen until at least two others have scandals to get the principal distracted. Schechter is just about done with their ‘violence and or sexuality’, they need to be careful for a bit.

“I’m not gonna do anything,” he says, stopping across the table from him. Now it’s not just Frank, everyone is watching. Frank’s got a fuckton of friends, it’s sort of off putting. “We just need to talk about some stuff.”

“Uh oh, Frankie’s in trouble.” 

Victoria pulls on Gabe’s hair as Frank turns sideways to grin at him. “Matt and I wouldn’t have fun if we weren’t being bad. Let’s go talk.” 

He stands up enthusiastically. For a second Matt wonders if he’s one of the few Miguel and Rose types that likes talking. Then he realises it’s still a show for Gabe and the rest that are watching. It’s all the more reason to find a private area to do this. Matt wants real answers, not what Frank says to impress people.

Their private place is a random bank of lockers a few hallways away from the cafeteria. While not private in the literal sense, no one that walks by will care enough to stop, and they’ll notice if either of their groups of friends try to spy. For all intents and purposes it’s good enough.

“Okay. So. We, uh, didn’t really test things, we just went for it.”

Frank shrugs. “Picking a fight did the job.”

“Yeah.” It’s hard to argue against that, considering the results of Frank being a douchebag. “But we haven’t talked about other stuff. The stuff that’s not fighting.”

“Like?”

“I dunno. Do you wanna be collared? Or-”

“No. I really don’t, man.”

“Yeah, see, I didn’t think you would, but I didn’t know.”

“Consider it talked about.” Frank smirks, and Matt wants to pull on his hair.

“Okay. So do you just want the fighting thing, or do you want to have sex?” Please, please let him say he wants to have sex. It won’t be a relationship ender if he doesn’t, after all it’s not like there are no orgasms involved. Life would be a lot better if Frank does though.

“I want sex.”

“You sure? Because I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do. Unless a thing of yours is being forced.” Matt thinks for a second before adding, “which isn’t necessarily my thing, but it’s not _not_ my thing either. We’d just have to talk about limits first.”

Matt kinda hopes he’s not into it, just so they don’t have to talk. It’s fucking hard to talk like this, screw Rose’s wisdom. 

“Slow down, you’re pulling a Gee.” Matt’s known Frank’s friends long enough to know that he should resent that. But punching Frank in the arm for the comment will only distract them both. And as much as he’d like to give Frank a split lip then make out, the trophy at the end of the discussion marathon might be blowjobs. 

“Seriously, Frank.”

“Fine. As far as consent play goes, you hit me whenever you want, I’ll say Rhode Island if I want you to stop. I’ve never had a rape fantasy, but maybe in the future, I dunno. But yeah, I’m sure I’m fine with adding sex.”

“So how do you think we should do this?”

Frank shrugs. “I don’t have any money for Jimmy, so-”

“I didn’t mean right now. I meant should I reciprocate?”

“You’re asking me if I want a blowjob back? Has anyone ever said no? _Why_ would anyone ever say no?”

Matt shrugs. Rose owes him. "I dunno, if you thought you weren’t worthy of your dom, I guess?”

Frank doesn’t react well to that. “Matt, you’re stronger, you’re faster. You’re not worthier. And if you think I’m going to start bowing any time soon-” Frank cuts himself off, takes a breath, and continues. “You were seriously fucking mistaken if you ever thought I was Alex Marshall.”

Matt doesn’t understand the Montague-Capulet thing between Frank and his friends and the Letos, but that’s not the point. “I really want you to blow me. I’m trying to figure out a way it works for both of our slants.”

“I dunno. Punch me in the face and make me bleed on your cock. Or kick me until I fall to my knees and stick it in my mouth. I dunno. You’ll figure it out.” Well fuck, it looks like they are going to have the consent play conversation. See, that is exactly the problem. Talking always begets more fucking talking.

“Can you come to my house after school?”

“No. I can’t go to the place where I’m going to get laid.” The sarcasm is laid on so thick a half asleep puppy could hear it. Matt kicks out and connects with Frank’s shin for it. It’s a taste of what’s to come.

The afternoon passes by glacially. Every few minutes he thinks of Frank’s lips; split and drooling blood, or pursed around a cigarette, or covered in his spunk. His notes are pretty damn sparse, not that he cares. Failing next week’s pop quiz seems a better option when compared to forcing himself to think about the Renaissance rather than Frank’s mouth.

Finally it’s the end of last class. Matt zips up his binder a few minutes before the clock strikes three thirty so he can leave the room the instant the bell rings. Somehow Frank is already waiting at his locker. It wouldn’t surprise Matt to find out he elbowed his way though the hallways, nudging Doms and other Doms’ subs alike, but he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t care, as long as no one starts a fight with Frank without his permission. There’s nothing in his locker he needs, so he just keeps walking towards the doors nearest the student parking lot. Within steps Frank is following at his side.

Matt doesn’t have a problem with the idea of blowing Frank. Some people get hung up on that kind of thing, think blowing someone or getting fucked are the sub roles. Matt doesn’t agree. In his book being a dom is about the attitude, knowing that you’re in charge. It’s that attitude that serves him well in this relationship. Matt’s pretty sure that whenever the intercourse part of sex acts comes up on the docket Frank will demand equal time. If Frank fucks him because Matt tells him to, he’s still the one in charge.

For now though, Matt doesn’t worry about fucking, or reciprocation. Instead he slaps Frank. He falls with the gesture, letting himself crumple without a struggle. He’s down before Matt would expect it of him, but he gets the hurry. He really just wants Frank’s mouth on him. He’s not going to prolong the foreplay if Frank doesn’t need him to. 

“While you’re down there, suck it.”

“Fuck you.”

Matt grabs a hank of hair and holds Frank in place as he rubs the crotch of his jeans against his pretty red cheek. He lets go so he can undo the button and zipper, then shoves his underwear as far down the leg holes as he can but keeps his jeans up. Then he yanks Frank forward and jams him nose first against him. When he pulls back again there are zipper teeth impressions on his cheek. It looks fucking hot. Frank licks his lips and Matt wants to bite them. 

“Are you ready yet?”

“Fuck you.”

He slaps his face again. Not hard enough to fuck up his jaw, or even really redden his cheek. Just enough that it stings. “How about now?”

“Fuck off.”

“Your face is going to get sore before my hand is.”

Frank purses his lips like he’s thinking, then opens them to spit right on Matt’s cock. He almost comes instantly. The rudeness in the gesture is fucking heady.

“I’m gonna ask nicely one more time. Then I’m gonna get nasty. Ready to give up and put your sweet little lips on my dick?”

“Screw you!”

Matt pulls him close again. This time he holds him by his nose instead of his hair. When Frank gasps for air Matt unhooks his fingers from his nostrils and shoves his dick in his mouth. Christ, it’s like he’s been waiting decades for this. 

Rebellious or not, Frank knows what to do with a cock in his mouth. He’ll have to ask him -some other time, not now of course- if it’s okay to call him a whore or a slut. He doesn’t know how many people Frank’s been with, but he’d have to guess hundreds based on perfection of technique. Matt fucks his mouth fast, hard, not giving him a choice about it because he knows he doesn’t want a choice. Frank likes to lose, and Matt wants to be the one against him, winning.

After he comes in Frank’s mouth he takes a step back. It’s up to Frank if he wants to swallow or if he spits it onto his shoes. If it’s the second though Matt might have to shove his head to the ground and make him lick it up. His shoes don’t deserve that treatment.

Frank swallows, even licks his lips. Then, because he’s Frank, he opens his mouth and starts demanding things. “Next time you have to blow me.”

“Next time?”

“Came in my pants.” 

He could ridicule Frank, but there’s no point in it. They’ve both already come. “’Kay. Next time.”


End file.
